God of all, we praise you for the life that you give us,
even when we cling to it by no more than our fingertips
and, in Jesus’ name, we protest the inequality created by human greed. Amen.

O God, how long? How long must we wait to see your justice lifted high? How long must we groan under oppression and injustice? The poor get poorer, and the rich get richer. Help us to sing a new song. Help us, through your Holy Spirit, to sing your song of a world renewed, of dignity freely given, of right living between sibling and sibling. But it begins with me. It begins with my willingness to partner with the God of all the earth. Help us to see the riches you have placed within us and let us add our voices to the song all creation longs to sing.
Then our souls shall truly magnify the Lord,
today and always.
Amen.

God of grace and hope,
Where the warmth of a smile eclipses the sinister sneer –
Let hope stand triumphant.
Where an act of kindness
undermines an evil deed –
Let hope stand triumphant.
Where a word of peace
silences the terrorist’s threat –
Let hope stand triumphant.
Where difference is diversity
in place of disunity –
Let hope stand triumphant.
Where youth is innocent
and age is wisdom –
Let hope stand triumphant.
Where love is real
and faith is kindled –
Let hope stand triumphant.
Praying that praise and protest
would be partners in our living and in our praying,
that your kingdom may come among us.
Amen.

God of the Outcast; God of the Disempowered:
Thank you that you walk with us as One who has been rejected, despised, mocked.
Help us to follow the story of your pathfinders long past: justice-seekers like the Primitive Methodists who opened wide doors to welcome all.

Through your infinite mercy, O God, may we be prevented from destroying your creation. With so many ongoing conflicts, Lord, it can sometimes be a challenge for many people to believe in your existence. Yet, in spite of centuries of violence and hatred, oppression and injustice, all spawned from humankind, it is a miracle indeed that the human race can still recover, and produce people who can, and do, overcome evil with good; hatred with love and greed with open-handedness. This, Father God, can only be possible by your outpouring of grace. Amen.

Creator God, you teem in every prison space and in every story; prisoner, victim, family and staff. Your light breaks through the cracks in our broken vessels and the diversity of multi-faith prison chaplaincy. You know the loss that separation brings, yet offer hope that healing is accessible to hurting people and people who cause hurt. Guide your Church toward being a model for institutions that act justly and do not impose harm. See us, Mother of Nature, and forgive our failing to love with the sort of balance Jesus practised. Let us happily carry our share of injustice so that our ministries may relate to the people we are called to serve. Amen.

What does the Lord require of us?
To love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength and to love our neighbours as ourselves.
What is love? It looks like Jesus.
Lord, help us to be more patient and kind, remove jealousy, envy, anger and rage from us.
Let us not be boastful in ourselves and our possessions,
but to give away freely what we have freely received.
Love is not self-seeking, but looks after the needy, poor, lonely, and the widows and orphans.
Love looks to forgive those who have hurt us and doesn’t keep a record of wrongdoings. God is love and God’s love always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres.
God’s love never ends. Amen.

I’m looking at the sheep God. Are you really a shepherd?
I can’t see the shepherd. Is the shepherd really there?
The sheep seem to be happy, content.
They don’t seem to be lacking at all. But I can’t see the shepherd.
Some are lying down, but most are standing up, but they seem happy.
They are safe, they are fed, they are free from danger, but I can’t see the shepherd.
Even though I can’t see the shepherd, they must be there.
Feeding the sheep, caring for them, looking after them.
Does the shepherd spend much time with the sheep? I don’t know.
What about me God? Are you there? I can’t see you at the moment. Are you there?
I’m fed, I’m watered. I have plenty to eat, but are you there?
I can’t see you.
You must be there. If you weren’t there, what difference would it make?
Would I be fed? Would I be warm? Would I be safe? Probably not.
You are there, God. Just because I can’t see you doesn’t mean you are not there.
Thank you for being my shepherd.

Loving God, we rejoice in the signs of your presence in the world:
for every child who has a home, we praise and thank you God;
for every war that has an end, we praise and thank you God;
for every wound that has been healed, we praise and thank you God;
for every debt that is no more, we praise and thank you God.
And for the dawning of hope for all people, we pray:
where there is hunger and there is need, your kingdom come, O Lord;
where there are walls and barriers of hate, your kingdom come, O Lord;
where the poor pay the price, and the rich take the profit, your kingdom come, O Lord;
and where the earth lies wasted, and the skies are polluted, your kingdom come, O Lord.
Amen.

Lord, send us out.
Send us out from our buildings, full of history and comfort and meaning, and lead us into your world as your disciples where the story is still being written.
Send us out with our hearts full of love and concern and fear and hope, and lead us into your heart for this blessed and beautiful world where the story is still being written.
Continue to bless places for lonely people to gather; soup lunches and warm spaces; moves and renovations; missions and prayer gatherings; and all the ways we seek to move from where we are to where you want us to be.
Lord, send us out. And remind us – remind me – that the story is still being written. Amen.